


We Could Be Together

by EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12



Series: The Life and Times of Count Dooku [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, First Time, First Time Together, Jedi Code, Non-Explicit Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 15:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7469016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12/pseuds/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a harrowing mission with Qui-Gon, Dooku has returned to the Jedi temple, in desperate need of comfort, and a friend. She is there, as always, a reminder of all the things that could be between them. But will he let that happen? Will she? Can it truly be forbidden when the force seems only to be gently pushing them forward?</p><p> </p><p>Set Between chapter 10 and 11 of "The Way of Things"; one shot!</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Could Be Together

He pulled her closer, every urge he’d had: physical, mental, emotional, over the past months came to him. More than just the mission, extending back to when she had first captivated his interest. He felt her tongue creep against his lips, and he opened his mouth, that simple touch almost electric. 

He wouldn’t say it to her, but his kiss with her had been his second true kiss; one that had some sort of romantic sentiment with it. The other had been with a girl, a senator’s daughter whose name he couldn’t even remember, who he had been near for an extended mission. This was so much more than that, this was whole; this was extraordinary. He could feel her hands twisting into the ends of his hair, tugging him down to be level with her short stature; and each twist and gentle scratch against his scalp was driving him crazy. 

He had been wrong to leave her, so wrong the night before; but he could remedy that now. He separated their lips, brushing a kiss instead against her cheek, then moving his lips down to her throat, where she turned her head to allow him to press a soft kiss to her pulse point that throbbed under pale skin. He touched his nose along her skin, marking a gentle path that he then followed with his lips, until the thick collar of her dress stopped his path. 

She tugged on his hair, and he pulled back, gazing into her eyes that were smiling as much as her mouth, almost seeming to be darker than when he had last looked at her. Her fingers slid over his back, carving an electric path until they wrapped around his hand. “Come on.” She whispered gently, and pulled him back into her apartment, into her bedroom where only a soft strand of lights lit the scene. 

He marveled for a moment at how similar they were; her main set of decorations a large shelf of holobooks where he could see some of his own favorites on the blue backing. The door slid shut behind them, and he was suddenly conscious of his own breathing which seemed inexplicably loud in the closed space. They were alone, they could do this. They could come together, in every way, and at the end, still be the Jedi they were pledged to be. 

“We can stop.” She said, finally breaking the silence, and he felt guilt rise in him that she might have misinterpreted his nervousness. “This isn’t an obligation, Dooku.”

“I know.” And he reached up to gently touch the side of her face, trailing soft fingers along her jaw. “I don’t want to stop.” He said, with a small smile as his hands moved over her arms before latching onto her hips and holding her close. 

She seemed satisfied, pulling him into another gentle but short kiss as she placed her hands on the twin panels of his tunic that covered his chest. They found their way between the folds of fabric and undid the strings that held his shirt together, opening it so she could pull it apart. The beige fabric hung loosely around his shoulders, and he couldn’t stop the small hitch in his breath as her small hands pushed the cloth back, gliding over bare skin until the fabric fell back onto the floor of her room.   
She pressed down into the skin of his back, and he leaned down to kiss her again, lips parted. It was heated, especially now, where he could feel the rough fabric of her tunic and the soft touch of her hands on the skin of his upper body; all combined with the taste of her and the feel of her gently exploring his mouth. 

Her fingers glided over his chest, and before he could protest the breaking of their kiss, she guided her lips along it as well. It was an old scar, where he had been hit across the chest during what should have been a peaceful protest, throwing himself in front of a man who was protecting his child. The club the guard had held had a blade he hadn’t’ anticipated, and he could remember the blood soaking through his tunic as he fell to the ground, the blade sticking in his chest for a moment. But now, as her lips traveled along it, her fingers moving over the lines of his defined abdomen, he could feel the memory fading. He pushed it, all of that pain and misery, into the living force he could feel swelling around them; allowing it to leave him. 

Finally, after what seemed like hours of blissful silence, her fingers finding and erasing all of the small scars and burns and blemishes that marred his skin, her hands came to rest on his waistband, those same fingers undoing the buckle of the belt that was looped around his trousers.   
He could feel his already burgeoning arousal, but now, with her hand so close to him, loosening the increasingly tight fabric, he had to suck in a breath. The belt joined his tunic in a pile on the floor; and her eyes met his. He felt a brief flash of joy course through him; deep in her eyes was a strong show of arousal as she regarded his naked torso; he knew she could see and feel his growing need as she pressed closer to him to pull her into another kiss, but she didn’t seem to mind, only to want more of his touch. 

He tightened his grip on her waist, flashes of earlier coming to his mind. He wanted to go down farther, kiss more of her, press lips to her again and again and again, over every inch of her body. She had on far too many clothes, he suddenly realized, and he broke their kiss, pressing his forehead to hers, his breathing sped up from the course of their activities. “Turn around.” He said, and in a moment, she was holding her hair up between her hands; exposing the top zipper of her dress.   
He wanted to touch it, to pull it down, but instead, he pulled her close, wrapping bare arms around her body. She curled her body into his, pressing back against him. He breathed in the soft smell of her hair, pressing kisses to her neck and earlobe. “Can I?” He whispered to her, grazing fingers over the back of her neck. 

“Of course.” She responded, a husky tone finding its way into her words. He gripped the small piece of metal between firm fingers, his nervousness almost outweighing his excitement; but she seemed confident, and he could feel the heat radiating from her skin into his own. He watched as more of the skin of her back was exposed to his sight, smooth and pale; blocked by a white band across her back. The zipper stopped at the small of her back and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding in. 

“Sit down.” She said suddenly, gesturing to the bed where he followed her instructions, though he was loathe to leave his vantage point. She waited on him, watching his eyes as they locked on hers before she looked down and pulled the dress forward down her arms, allowing it to collapse in a pile on the floor. 

He couldn’t help looking down her body, every inch of newly exposed skin perfect in his eyes. He wanted to touch her, he could feel his pants tightening, not realizing he could be more aroused than he was already. “Jocasta…” He said, his voice far more hoarse than he thought, deep and breathier as well. “You’re perfect.” He said, and she came over to the bed. It occurred to him that although this was his first venture into this sort of relationship, the same was probably not true for her, and indeed, there was no hesitation in her moves as she planted her knees on either side of his waist, straddling him down into the bed. 

He groaned in what he thought was a rather uncouth manner, his hips flexing instinctively into her body, where he could feel wet heat rolling from her through the clothes that still separated them. She smiled at that, before pulling him into another kiss. 

He accepted it gladly, each pass of her tongue shooting sparks to his groin as his hands explored newly exposed skin. She was lithe and defined, her skin warm and inviting to his long fingers, which seemed to be insistent at pressing against every inch of her. His fingers stopped at the bottom line of her bra, and she broke their kiss, leaving him gasping, to kiss along his jawline until she could take his earlobe gently between her teeth. He stiffened his body, the sensation fiery and definitive against his skin, bringing them closer. “Go on, Dooku.” She said gently, and his fingers fumbled for a split second before successfully undoing the bra clasp. 

He hesitated, and as if sensing his caution, she moved her own hands back and pulled the straps from her shoulders. He was grateful to her, wanting to express that in some concrete fashion, but was instead thoroughly distracted by her. It had occurred to him before, that although the connection he felt with her was on a whole new plane of understanding, he did find her physically attractive. And now, with her leaning over him, her breasts bared to his sight, that reminder fueled his arousal. He planted a hand firmly on her hip, the other in the center of her back, and flipped her further into the bed, bypassing a kiss to her lips to instead suck on her neck gently. 

He felt the tops of her breasts press into his chest, soft against the hard lines, her nipples brushing against his scar. He paused at her collar bone, eyes closed, and simply breathed her in for a moment. “Can I touch you?” He said, thinking it might sound silly, but he needed her confirmation before he moved forward. He was starting to realize the depth of his own feelings towards her. This was more than sex, and she was deserving of his every caution and pace. 

“Of course.” She brushed a hand through his hair, scratching gently at the back of his scalp, mussing up the black strands he tried to always keep so orderly. He pressed another kiss to her collar bone, then pulled back, not being able to help taking a moment simply to regard her bare torso. It was doing strange things to him, having her under him, trailing a fingertip along his spine, rubbing gentle circles onto his shoulders; her body exposed but her in perfect comfort with him. 

He supported himself on one arm, bringing the other up to cup her breast, marveling for a moment at the smoothness of the skin there. He trailed a thumb over her nipple, and heard her gasp for the first time that night. He went backwards, drawing a slow circle around it until it stiffened under his touch. He shifted his weight, repeating the motion to the other until her nipples were stiff and she let out a moan under him, bringing a small smile to his lips. 

A wild urge came over him, one he had the feeling wouldn’t be the last of the night, and he shifted his arms to lower himself closer to her skin. He let out a breath, knowing she could feel it against the heated flesh before he pressed a soft kiss to the curve of her breast. He would have liked to think he knew for certain what he was doing, but he was moving completely on instinct and her guidance; allowing their bond through the force to feel the pleasure she was feeling as he massaged her skin with his lips, suckling at what he hoped were the right points. Every gasp, stalled moan, tightening of her fingers on his shoulders and hair urged him forward.   
He pressed a tongue against her nipple, a small gasp of his name being his reward. He moved to the other, doing the same, but also unconsciously shifted his lower half, feeling his body, now aching for hers, inclining to press against her, the friction causing him to lose focus with an almost growl. 

He wanted to speak to her, say something that might be considered intelligent or at the very least, not a carnal expression of desire. But he couldn’t, his body had almost taken over his mind for the first time in his life, and he bore his eyes down into hers, unable to suppress a very uncharacteristic grin from forming on his lips.   
“Kiss me.” Her breathing was heavy, her words panting, but he was more than willing to oblige her, doing his best to keep his lower body still as his lips found hers.   
The kiss was not long, nor drawn out as so many had been. It was quick, fierce, and almost as soon as it had begun, she separated them, sliding her hands over his stomach. He waited, watching her eyes rather than her hands as she came to his waistband. Above the cloth, she traced the hard diagonal lines that disappeared into his trousers, but after a few moments, this path wasn’t enough. She looked up at his eyes, giving him a quick wink before she slid her hands around to give him a quick, playful squeeze, still trying to ease any nerves he had. Then he felt her fingers venture past his waistband, skirting over his hips, grazing the almost quivering skin below his navel before she took him in her hand for the first time. 

That was almost the end of it; he closed his eyes, concentrating every feeling on not finishing, on what more was to come in their coupling, on the continued feel of her skin on his. She moved slowly, seeming to be aware of his predicament; her hands giving him slow strokes. He pressed his chin to his chest, knowing her eyes were on him, but he felt like drowning in pleasure; every nerve ending he had seemed to be on fire, every thought on the gentle twist of her hand, the pass of her thumb over his tip. But he waited, and after a moment she stopped. He noticed then he had been unconsciously thrusting gently into her hand, and he looked down, embarrassed at her. But if she noticed, it hadn’t bothered her. In fact, she seemed completely enthralled with him. 

“Can I?” She asked, and he realized she had moved her hands back to where they were on the sides of his pants, ready to roll the brown fabric off of his hips. 

“Please do.” He said, and met her eyes with a gentle laugh. He watched this time as the fabric slid down his legs, leaving him only in the black shorts he always wore. He had never considered his underwear to be of particular importance other than hygiene, but she seemed to appreciate the aesthetic. Her fingers curled at the edge of his   
hips, and with a quick glance and nod from him, she rolled those down as well, and he felt cool air on what he realized was now seemingly throbbing skin. 

She slid her hands over his thighs, tracing the thick muscles there gently, then over his backside, then to his chest until she could wrap her hands around his shoulders and pull him gently down into a kiss. He vaguely realized that this was the first time, with the exception of the temple medics, that he had been completely naked in front of someone, but as her tongue passed over his lips, and her hand moved dangerously close to his groin, he also realized he didn’t care. She took her time exploring his mouth, and his fingers found their way to her underwear, the last barrier between them. 

They slid easily down her legs; and finally, in the dark, dimly cast light of her room; they were both nude. Still kissing her skin, anywhere his lips could find to kiss, he slid a hand down the length of her body. “Jocasta?” He stopped his journey on her thigh, fingers curled against the soft skin. 

“Touch me.” She breathed against his ear, pressing a soft kiss to her throat. He slipped a hand through the dark curls between her legs, then traced the line separating the folds of skin. He explored more, each of her jerks and twists into his fingers, each gasp of pleasure that reached his lips urging him on. Finally, he touched what he could tell was a bundle of nerves; her entire body arching into him, a new flash of wetness coating his fingers. “Dooku...” She was panting, his fingers moving again, every so often moving back to flick against them, each time causing her hips to jerk into his fingers, wanting more. 

Finally, he moved one against where her body was opening , slipping it inside as he sucked her a nipple back into his mouth. Her hips were rocking against his fingers, the thought invigorating him to move more, adding a second finger, moving his lips over heated skin. He didn’t know when he had planned on stopping, the feeling of her growing orgasm through the force almost addicting; but she ended it, wrapping her hand back around his now painful erection. 

“I need you.” She said, and he placed a last kiss to her jaw, pulling his hand back. 

“I love you.” He wasn’t sure he had really said it, or if she had heard him as she shifted underneath him, wrapping her legs around his waist, pressing him into her body. He didn’t let the confession distract him, trying to tell himself it was only a byproduct of passion. He held himself up on one arm, resisting the urge to look away from her eyes as he guided himself into her body. 

He gasped, breaking eye contact to bury his face in her neck, inching inside of her slowly, until he had to stop, collect his bearings. He only heard their breathing for a moment, and he could feel it, not only pressed against his chest where her breasts swelled against his chest, but also through her body that was gripping him inside of her. He felt the tip of her nose on his cheek, then her lips at his ear. “Move.” She said gently. Not a command, or a demand; a wish, born of an uncontrollable urge to move with him. 

Her teeth weathered gently at his earlobe and he let out a deep groan as he started to thrust slowly in and out of her. Her heels are pressed into his backside, and with every forward motion, she drives him deeper. He doesn’t know how he compares to her other lovers, he doesn’t want to think about it either, only the heat, the slick sound of their coupling, her moans, the arches of her back. 

He starts to move faster, pressing the palm of one hand over hers, entwining their fingers and holding it back to the bed. He can feel his release building, stockpiling in his abdomen, threatening to explode with every thrust into her. But he wants it for her. “What?” He can’t speak coherently, his words a hoarse mix. “What do you need?” It’s the most he can get out, trying to measure out the motions of his hips. 

“Don’t stop.” She whispers back, nibbling again at his ear. He doesn’t know what it is, but there’s something about that, that slight pressure at his ear, combined with her words that’s driving him wild. He sucks at the pulse point on her neck, earning a moan from her. Though he is loathe to lose that simple, intimate touch, he separates their hands; skirting it between them over her breasts, her stomach her sides. Hers tangle in his hair, each breath a gasp of pleasure. 

He looks into her eyes again, dark mirrors of his own passion, and one more thrust has him spilling inside her, his name on her lips. His vision goes white for a moment, the world only seems to be her, but he doesn’t want this to be simply for him. He moves his fingers, still groaning at the aftershocks of orgasm, and finds that bundle of nerves again. With a few twists of his fingers, he feels her walls, already tight, constrict around him, her body peak and writhe and an incredible sound, from deep within her chest, hits his ears. He wishes she could have had that first, but she has no complaints, continuing to hold him within her as she rides down her own high. 

When he finally separates them, collapsing next to her on the bed, she threads their fingers together. She doesn’t mention his confession of love, and he starts to think that maybe she truly didn’t hear him. “That was…” But he found himself again without the capacity for speech, an unusual turn for one who prided himself on eloquence. 

“Perfect.” She said, pressing into his side. He smiles at her, he knows there were moments when he was clumsier than he should have been, could have done more to pleasure her, but she is happy with them, and therefore, so is he. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, watching as she rose from the bed to step into the refresher next to the bed. He could feel the lull of sleep coming to his body, his mind void of any obligation other than to stay here with her if she would have him. When she returned to the bed, he was sitting up on his elbows. 

“I can go.” He said, moving to rise up, and leave her space for her. She pressed a hand to his chest, laughing slightly. 

“Why would you do that?” She asked, “Unless you’re already tired of my company.” But he had already gathered her in his arms, her naked skin warm against his own, his chin resting on the top of her head. 

He had so much to share with her, all of the feelings of near possessive declaration from earlier that night sweeping over him. They moved towards sleep, him only half aware of all the sentiments he spoke to her listening ears, hearing every word she said back to him, letting them sink through his skin before sleep overtook him, her body still held close to his own.


End file.
